


In the Life

by Ladycat



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy is being stalked.</p><p>This is, sadly, not the first time it's happened. She is what post-surgery women long to be- and that is a direct quote from someone who is no longer her god damned friend, but it's still probably true- and some guys think that a sassy attitude is one of those reverse psychology things. The more frequently and creatively she puts them down, the more they think she really wants them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Life

Darcy is being stalked.

This is, sadly, not the first time it's happened. She is what post-surgery women long to be- and that is a direct quote from someone who is _no longer her god damned friend_ , but it's still probably true- and some guys think that a sassy attitude is one of those reverse psychology things. The more frequently and creatively she puts them down, the more they think she really wants them.

She does not want them. No, really. Darcy is pretty damn good at saying exactly what she means. No thanks, your B.O. has its own zip code and also, get the fuck away from me is not code for anything beyond get the fuck away. 

Weirdly it takes some people a while to understand that.

Stalker #1 was a love sick tool back in high school and the reason she started carrying around a taser. There have been a few others through college, although Jane called at least one of them just a really persistent guy who wanted to date her. Whatever. Darcy knows stalkers when she hears the shadowy echo of their footsteps and finds freaky presents that are not, actually, like dead cats or something but give the same creepy ass vibe.

Her second to most recent stalker is still annoying as hell, but Darcy has learned to make her peace with that.

"You have no idea how to approach a normal girl, do you?"

"Good thing you're not," Clint responds without looking up from his tablet. He's smirking.

So she smacks him, but only because it's expected. Plus, touching him gives her a charge every time. Like a taser but in a really good way. "Hey, I am too!"

"Well, you're definitely a girl, at least."

Darcy hits him again, only she always forgets that Clint is contractually obligated to tickle her in retaliation. Okay, more like she remembers and doesn't mind, since it usually devolves into them making out on the sofa which is absolutely no incentive to refrain.

"Why're we mocking my game?"

Darcy has to wrest her attention back from the way Clint's lips get really puffy and swollen after kissing for a while. Clint, helpfully, gives her a minute. She's comfortably curled up in his lap, his arms snug against her back and there's a strange sort of lack of urgency between them. Making out is still good- _very_ good- but the frantic need to start stripping down right there is... distant. Muted. Still damn awesome when they do, but Darcy's learning that just cuddling like this is nice.

It runs counter to every other boyfriend she's ever had. She's getting used to that, too.

"Uh, that wasn't mocking," she says after she finally connects his question. "That was statement of reality."

"Except how it was a question."

"Like on _Jeopardy_. Answer totally known."

He grins and kisses her nose. "Why?"

Along with being the World's Greatest Marksman, Clint Barton is a patiently stubborn bastard. That leaves Darcy with two options: either distract him and deal with it later- and there will absolutely be a later because he doesn't forget anything she'd rather he did- or fess up and tell him what's going on now. Neither is particularly appealing.

Damn her stupid need to verbalize everything. 

"Just- how we met," she says, trying to split the difference. "Well, the dating parts.

"You mean on the job?"

"Sure, except how we didn't actually meet in New Mexico because you were stalking from afar." At his look, she grins. "As opposed to when we started dating and you were stalking me from way up close and personal. The rafters, air ducts, I'm pretty sure that was you who followed me to to the museum when I was with _Steve_. Clint, honey, it's Captain America. If I can't defend myself I'm pretty sure he'll step up to the plate."

Only Clint doesn't laugh. Or scowl while trying not to laugh, which is what she's going for. The epic saga of Steve trying to figure out how to apply his old-fashioned-in-the- _forties_ chivalry to modern women has been a mostly amusing experience for everyone.

Instead, Clint sits up straighter, taking her with him, and frowns. "You think it could've been someone else."

Darcy waves a hand. "Hello, SHIELD? Half your missions are ninja babysitting details. With the bonus pitched battle at the end, I know, don't give me that face. I'm not making fun of what you do, for the five thousandth time, I'm just- "

"Being stalked by someone."

Crap. Darcy has excellent poker face with everyone except Clint. It's the way he _looks_ at her. She's sure of it. If only she understood it _so she could also prevent it_ , that'd be grand.

"Maybe," she says after a moment. "I'm not really sure."

"Do you want me to find out?"

Anybody else, and that wouldn't be a question. Hell, they wouldn't actually tell her what they were doing. They'd just rabbit off, trailing the scent of testosterone and scorched manliness, determined to 'take care of it' whether or not she's interested in the assist.

Clint means it. Oh, he'll do something regardless. Hello, super-skilled sniper who is both manly and full of testosterone. But he'll at least be subtle about it until she's ready.

Darcy appreciates that. A lot.

"Not yet," she decides. "I don't actually think whoever it is wants to hurt me."

"Darce- 

"No, I mean it. It honestly feels kind of like what you did. Only way more ghosty, since you weren't really trying to stay hidden. Why you think following a girl around and spying on her is charming, I have no- "

"Worked on you," he interrupts, grinning

"Pfft. That was your muscles."

"So you're saying you're only with me for my body?"

Darcy gives him the most earnestly fervent expression she can manage. " _Duh._ "

He laughs and that leads to kissing again. The conversation is definitely not over. Clint is trained to wait as long as he needs to in order to achieve his target, to act and dissemble if necessary, and lie like a rug.

But for now he's solidly warm underneath her and there are no phantom eyes drifting over her shoulders, haven't been since she got back to the mansion, actually, and Darcy really, truly doesn't feel unsafe. She never has. It could be acclimation since Clint has a habit of turning up at random places with details that means he's been watching for a while, but that doesn't feel like a good fit either. She isn't sure what does and thinking about it makes her head hurt. So she sinks into kissing Clint, one leg over his lap while he palms her breasts and squeezes lightly, her body held so close to his that breathing is occasionally awkward.

Darcy knows how to ask for help when she needs it. And when that happens, stalker #5 won't know what hit him.

*

Of course, this is problematic since stalker #5 turns out to be a _girl._


End file.
